Needle and thread
by Ambyrawrawr
Summary: A needle and thread. That's all that's needed to create silence. Perfect pure silence. MxM AU
1. Hook

**A.N.**

**Yeah, shouldn't be starting another multichapter but why not!**

**This is a co-authorisation between myself (Playing Matt) and Deadly Nightshade1395 (Playing Matt)**

**This is her first ever fanfiction so be generous and leave reviews!**

**Disclaimer: Mild horror. We do not own Death Note**

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**Mello**

It was two AM by the time Rod let me go. Two fucking AM. Never mind that all the good places for food had shut down at midnight except for the places that serve grease in a bun and charge you $11 for the 'pleasure' of eating it. But my stomach was rumbling for something more than chocolate. I shoved my hands in the pockets of the thick bikers jacket that kept the cold from my skin and kicked a rock to the side. Looks like ramen tonight for me.

I went into the shitty restaurant, not bothering to lock up my bike. No one was stupid enough to steal from me, even those who didn't know who I was weren't stupid enough to steal from me. I'm just that awesome. I decided to sit and eat, mainly because this place had heating and my apartment didn't. I didn't exactly want to grab hot food and sit on my couch whilst I could see my breath in the fucking air.

Slowly I ate the steaming bowl of chicken noodles that a young girl placed in front of me, watching the people walking by through the window. There was one in particular who caught my attention. A young boy was examining my bike. Ratty blue jeans hung off his frame and his hood was pulled to cover his face, keeping his head cast low to deter drawing attention to himself. He reached out with his grubby hands, a pair of fingerless gloves grabbing onto my bike's handlebars as he swung his leg over to sit on it.

I growled, this kid had to be high as fuck. That or he was just too stupid to live. Silently I walked out ignoring the owner's yell of 'The fuck you think you're going?! Where the hell is my check?!'. Without hesitation I grabbed the kid by the back of his ratty jumper, throwing him to the ground.

"What do you think you're doing with my bike?" I hissed.

He didn't answer, that pissed me off beyond belief. I gave him a sharp kick in the side, eyes going wide when his hood fell back as he stumbled to the ground. The boy's lips were sewn up in a grotesque smile with a thin black string and there were two hooks through his mouth coated in congealed blood.

"The fuck...?" I whispered crouching in front of him, terror flashed in his eyes as his lips continued to flash me a manic smile. It was then that I noticed the blood pooling underneath him. Judging by the amount, he was bleeding out fast. I surprised myself by reaching out and taken hold of his hand. The skin was soft compared to my own calloused hands, tough from years of hard labour.

I couldn't take him to the hospital. Not with my face plastered everywhere thanks to the police getting a lead. Although it wasn't a photograph, the sketch artist sure went wild. So I couldn't risk it. Instead I just stroked his hand in what I hoped was a comforting manner, my anger of him touching my bike had long since dissipated. Somehow this death was different from all the others I'd witnessed. Eventually the kid went limp, face completely pale. I carefully flipped him over trying to see where he had been bleeding from. A large, badly stitched gash ran from his neck to his lower back. It was deep enough that I could see his spine with the muscle sticking out around it. Without another thought I laid him down next to the restaurant, making sure he would be found. But I couldn't stay. I hopped on my bike and sped home. I would think about this after a good sleep.

I tossed and turned all night, the kid's face haunting my dreams. His sewn lips pulling apart to ask me why I wasn't helping. I nearly jumped out of my skin when my phone vibrated to tell me to wake up. Annoyed I shut it off, tossing it at the wall. It clattered to the ground with an unsatisfying clunk. With a sigh I went to where my laptop sat, I had decided that the kid's death yesterday was just suspicious enough to be looked into (That and I was bored). Hours later I finally stopped. There were plenty of deaths that were identical to the one I'd seen. There was definitely something going on


	2. Laptop

**A.N.**

**So apparently I'm dippy. Deadly Nightshade1395 is Mello, I'm Matt. **

**Disclaimer: No ownage and stuff.**

**Reviews! Leave them!**

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**Matt**

"Take fifty seven to the room." The man said, turning his head to the stout figure in the doorway. Oh God the room. Fortunately not for me, for some unlucky soul kept like a feral animal in the cages below the rugged hardwood floor I was sat on. The room was thick with cigar smoke, the rancid smell curling in my nose while the fireplace crackled merrily.

Fifty seven. Numbered. Take away the humanity of a name and what are you left with? A meat bag. Hapless children and adults alike, homeless. Who would miss them? Honestly. No census is ever taken for beggars because no one gives a fuck. Most would be glad of freshly uncluttered streets, no one likes looking at a smelly hobo with a small can begging for a few coppers for food. So when they suddenly up and disappear? No one will question where dreadlocked seagull guy has gone.

The lucky ones in that room got anaesthesia, I was one of them. The 'unique' colour of my hair and eyes kept the boss man's attention. I was favoured. It didn't stop him putting the needles through my lips, keeping the thread sewn tight, but it was enough to keep me alive. Enough to allow me to a good meal every day (Albeit mostly soup which I could suck through a straw) and a warm bed with no hassle. As long as I was good and attentive.

It wasn't long until the screaming started. Poor fifty seven. I would hate to be him or her. I pulled my knees up to my chest and covered my hands over my ears tightly, watching Boss man swill his brandy in his glass and take a sip. He smacked his lips together in appreciation for the bottle of Klipdrift he had poured over ice.

The screaming slowed died to a stop and a man in a bloody white coat rushed in.

"It's implemented. And he's stable so far. I think he may even live." The bloody man breathed, a droplet of sweat rolling down his forehead.

"Good. Keep him healthy, keep the stitches clean. If this works…" Boss man trailed off, a small smirk on his lips.

"I know. So far he hasn't rejected it and he's accepting the medicine without too much trouble. We might really be onto something here." The bloodied man said.

I kept my head down, pretending not to listen. It wasn't the first day Blood man had come in. He usually had far grimmer news. The most recent being that thirty two escaped, sticky congealed blood splattered along the hallway and walls which of course, I was expected to clean.

Blood man flicked his eyes over to me, mouthing something to Boss man which I couldn't see, not allowed to see. Boss man stood up suddenly, running his fat sausage fingers through my hair. "Good night pet." He murmured, putting the empty brandy glass on the small wooden table, turning the light off and striding out the door, locking it behind him.

Like I was stupid enough to run, what did he take me for? I knew the rosta and weapon count better than anyone in the damn place but even then I wouldn't risk it. I would get shot instantly.

Instead I wriggled over to the laptop Boss man left next to the plush leather chair, opening it up.

A help message might not get much attention. But I knew where I was.

I knew exactly where I was.

I typed out a quick message on the first forum board I could find, wiping the memory of any trace of my usage carefully putting the laptop back into place.

I curled up in front of the still warm fire, trying to get comfy on the rug before drifting off into a fitful sleep. God I could only hope someone found that message.


	3. Forum

**A.N.**

**Hiii! Review because they make me feel really good!**

**- Deadly Nightshade1395**

**Disclaimer: We do not own Death Note**

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**Mello**

I spent all night going through every police file related to strange deaths. So far I had found around nearly three hundred. The strange thing to me had been that the media never caught wind of them. There wasn't one story on these deaths and normally they would've been plastered all over the news. This was big stuff. It was possible that the police knew this wasn't a normal killer and wanted to keep it hidden. Even the files had an extra encryption on them, it had taken me hours to figure out how to break it.

A scowl made it's way onto my lips as a picture of a young blonde boy appeared on my screen. He had two large hooks through his eyes and like the other boy he had a large incision along his spine. I squinted, zooming in on the picture, he had something on his neck. A tattoo of the number forty. A chill ran along my spine and I quickly checked the other photos. My hunch was confirmed, all of the victims had tattoos like that with varying numbers. I shivered (tell anyone and I'll kick your ass) these people were being used for something sinister. I exited out of the files (after copying them to my computer) and pulled up some online forums. Maybe there were some nerds who could shed a little light on this. I froze at a message at the top of one of the forums: 'Trapped. Send help.'

Following it was an address. It was completely possible this was some troll but I couldn't leave it alone. I grabbed my guns and drove to the address, weaving my way through cars on my bike.

Several people honked at me but I ignored them. I had never gotten in an accident before and I didn't plan to now. I hadn't bothered to put on my helmet so the wind whipped my hair against my cheeks, leaving a sharp sting. Honestly I preferred it this way, the wind, the sounds of the city unblocked by a helmet covering my ears. It was freeing.

I slowed to a stop when I reached the address from the forum post and frowned. There was...nothing. It was dirt and some dying plants. I kicked a bush annoyed, I knew it was possible it was some kid being a troll but I had hoped maybe I'd find something. I was just about to turn and go back to my bike when the heel of my boot clicked against something metal. I glanced down, brushing off the thin layer of dirt over a...trap door? Really? How cliché.

I ran a thin leather covered finger around the door, searching for any wires. When I didn't find any I tugged on the handle, half expecting to be blown up. Luckily nothing happened and I slipped through the door and down the set of stairs. It was surprisingly well put together for an underground compound, the walls were covered in an expensive oak panelling and the floor was a lush green carpet. This didn't seem like a compound as much as it did an underground mansion.

Every muscle in my body tensed at the sound of screaming, tortured, agonized screaming. I slipped one of my guns out of the back of my pants and clicked off the safety. I paused at the door at the end of the hall and pressed my ear against it, listening for anything on the other side.

There were two deep voices having a conversation that I couldn't make out through the thick metal door. I tucked myself in the corner of the wall and slowly used my foot to open the door. Immediately I heard the sound of two large guns being cocked. I sighed almost silently, of course this had been the night I had forgone a bullet proof vest. Not that it would help much if their guns were as big as I thought.

Apparently my sigh wasn't as silent as I thought because a bullet whizzed through the door, embedding itself in the wood panelling. One of the men made the mistake of stepping through the door, an amateurs mistake. He had a bullet in his skull before he even saw me. The other man yelled and ran straight for his fallen comrade, I snapped his neck. The less noise the better.

I waited to make sure no one had been attracted by the noise and slipped through the open door, this hallway wasn't as nice. Cement walls and cement floor, almost like a parking garage. My boots clicked loudly against the cement and I pulled my hood further over my head to hide my face. I was sure by now they knew they had an intruder so why was I being left alone? That was when bullets started to fly. I hit the floor and rolled behind a pillar. I squeezed my eyes shut, thinking. Big guns, big bullets, probably not too many shots in a cartridge. I counted each shot, getting to fifteen before the shots stopped. Immediately I aimed at the closest shooter and fired, I heard his body hit the floor. I was about to take another shot when the bullets started again, I quickly pulled my arm back and curled against the pillar, covering as much of myself as I could.

I repeated this process until no one was left to fire. I slid out from behind the bullet riddled pillar and counted the bodies, thirty men. Either this was the majority or there were plenty more coming. I crossed the large room as quickly as I could while being careful. When I finally reached the end I was left staring in surprise at a large double door, made of stained glass. Taking a deep breath I went in. A fire was crackling in a stone fireplace and the thick carpet sunk beneath my feet. I was partway through the room when I saw him.


	4. Leaving

**A.N.**

**Uni applications are stressing me. Fanfiction is needed.**

**Disclaimer: Do not own**

**Review us!**

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**Matt**

I could hear gunshots echoing around the manor. Thunderous bangs of steel death ricocheting off the marble pillars and indenting themselves in the door. Luckily for me it was thick and wooden, only a single bullet squeezing its way through, splintering the door and making a sizable hole in the plush leather arm chair. I curled into myself, hands clamped over my ears and my head pressed between my knees until I was entirely sure I was one smooth sphere.

I didn't hear the door click open or the patter of Italian leather shoes click across the wooden flooring. I didn't notice the hand grab the back of the thin striped shirt I was wearing or the click of the gun's hammer as it was pulled back, but I did notice the sharp yank dragging me to my feet and the hissed 'move' in my ear.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared.

After all I was an idiot. Why did I think that putting a warning on the_ internet_ would attract help. Jesus H. Christ you've probably attracted yourself some horny goon. Fantastic.

He nudged the barrel of the gun to my head, forcing myself to walk forwards. I didn't want my brain matter decorating the walls. He pushed me towards the compounds doorway, nudging the gun into the back of my head when I didn't step over the mahogany doorstop and onto the patio.

"Move." He growled.

I could feel my palms grow sweaty and a lump catch in my throat. I shouldn't leave, but I want to leave. Why the hell wasn't I moving?! Oh damn damn damn fuck" My vision started to black around the edges and my knees grew slacked as I toppled forwards into unconsciousness.

I awoke on a lumpy couch. My back and head was killing me and a spring had wormed it's way through the seat and was poking itself into my thigh. A woollen blanket covered most of my body, sockless feet dangling over the arm of the couch. The blankets tassels tickled my nose and I snorted to blow them aside, curling up further under the small blanket.

I turned over as a loud thump of metal hitting wood startled me. A thin blonde man stared at me. I'm pretty sure it was a man. He was toned, not muscular. The kind women get when the do Pilates or whatever. His chin was slightly rounded as if he hadn't quite lost his boyish qualities yet, a sharp nose and light blue eyes. The iris was slightly dilated as he gnawed off what I can only assume is another piece of chocolate as the bar had plenty of bite marks in it. His face was framed with raggedly cut blonde locks, the hair darkening in colour under the top layer of his hair where the sun had bleached it.

He was lounging in a pair of black tracksuit bottoms and an oversized t-shirt. Foil lay in tatters around him as his eyes followed my movements.

"So, sleeping beauty awakes."

I stayed silent. The gun he had dropped onto the table seemed to be following my every move, staring at me from the barrel.

Blonde man took another bite from his chocolate bar, licked his lips and crumpled the wrapper, throwing it at my face.

"So Red, do you have a name?"

I paused., mouth opening and shutting. I'm pretty sure I resembled a goldfish. My mind was scrambled, I couldn't remember. It had been so long since I was actually a name and not a number, my tongue fell over itself in my haste and garbled out the first thing that popped into my head. "Matt. My name's Matt."


	5. Sewn

**A.N.**

**Better late than never :D**

**Disclaimer: Do not own**

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**Mello**

I stared at the redhead as he slept, examining him closely. He was thin enough for me to know that he wasn't fed very often. But they did feed him. Interesting. I hadn't had time to go through the rest of the base so he was my only source of information for now. His red hair was greasy and I couldn't tell the color of his eyes through the orange goggles he wore. I threw my eighth chocolate bar wrapper on the floor, tossing my gun onto the table when I saw him stir. He jumped, quickly turning to face me.

"So, sleeping beauty awakes." He didn't say anything, just staring at me obviously frightened. I decided to try again. "So Red, do you have a name?"

The boy gaped at me for a moment, sewn together lips flapping like a goldfish.

"Matt." he finally said. "my names Matt."

"Okay then Matt." I dragged him off of the couch by his hair. "Take off your clothes."

"I-I...what?"

I leaned in close, hissing in his face "Clothes. Off. They're filthy."

He quickly began to strip, obviously scared of me and what I would do. And he was right to be. I had no problems with using him for whatever I needed. Luckily right now all I needed was information and he would be safe if he gave me what I needed to know. I grabbed his dirty clothes and tossed them out the window, not caring where they landed. I grimaced, it felt like there was a layer of grime on my hand now. I turned, taking a moment to examine the now naked redhead. My eyes wandered down to his crotch and I smirked.

"Natural redhead huh?"

Matt blushed deeply, the deep pink spreading all the way down to his chest. I shoved him towards the bathroom.

"You have twenty minutes. Use them wisely and get all that crap off yourself."

"Th-Thank you."

I watched him fumble with the bath and climb into the steaming water, giving an almost relieved sigh.  
I could practically see the dirt falling off of him, clouding up the pristine water. Confident that he wouldn't try anything stupid I walked off to make a quick call to Rod. I had found several I.D's in the building and I wanted information on who they were. They were obviously subordinates but that didn't mean they weren't important. Subordinates are usually the first to crack, not loyal like the hard nuts at the top of the chain.

After all, I was technically a subordinate and I practically ran the entire mafia. It's easy to figure out the inner workings of a place when you're part of one. I had Rod wrapped around my little finger. I could get him to do whatever I wanted. I walked back into the bathroom to find Matt fumbling with my shampoo bottle.

"That's shampoo. You do know what that is don't you?"

He blushed deeply, nodded curtly and opened it, washing his hair. I smirked, maybe sewing lips shut wasn't such a bad idea...I liked the idea of a silent servant. Except he wasn't completely silent, he could still speak albeit in a quiet tone. I leaned against the wall, arms crossed over my chest. Now why sew the victims lips if it wasn't to keep them silent? Was it just for the aesthetic? To terrify the new meat coming in that little bit more?

It didn't seem to bother Matt that much, though it was undoubtedly uncomfortable. Maybe he had grown used to it. He had grown used to a lot of things according to his scent. It made me want to gag. Ugh. I watched him from the couch in silence. I just need clarity.


	6. Bath

**A.N.**

**Short shortness. But I won't personally be writing anything now until after Christmas. If one of my co-authors writes a chapter though I will put that up. **

**And just to clarify this is a co-authored fic, between myself and Deadly Nightshade1395 as I realised I made an error. Deadly Nightshade1395 is writing Mello and myself as Matt.**

**So enjoy the chapter and Merry whatever the hell you celebrate!**

**Reviews for holiday cheer!**

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**Matt**

I was given a pair of ragged jogging bottoms to wear when I got out of the bath. They were gray with a little fleece left inside the legs. It was comforting to have something even remotely soft on my skin, even if they were holey.

"Drain the tub." The thin man said. I looked at the filthy water and inwardly grimaced. Holding my breath I stuck my hand in and pulled the plug, watching the disgusting water spiral down the plughole. Black streaks ran across the tub's bottom and a fine layer of scum coated the whole thing. "You'll be cleaning that." He tossed me a sponge and a bucket of warm soapy water and watched as I rinsed his tub completely clean. "Now Matt. You're going to answer my questions."

My eyes widened in surprise. I knew he would have questions, but it's not like I could talk for long. My lips ached when they moved for a little while when moved them just to speak my name let alone answer any full blown questions. The man folded his arms across his chest and clicked his teeth. "Why were you there?"

I stayed silent. Why did it even matter. I was there because I was. End of story. No one wants to hear a sob story from people they don't care about, hell most people don't want to hear a sob story from people they do care about. The man grew impatient at my lack of talking, his nostrils flared and he snaked his thin fingers through my damp hair, tugging it to pull my head back, exposing my neck. "Talk." He growled.

I opened my lips a little and winced as the string pulled at the still sore wounds. He didn't relent and his fingers only got tighter in my hair. "Homeless." I wheezed. My vocal chords burned with the small amount of use. It had been so long since I had uttered even a sentence. "Took me." My voice crackled towards the end of the words and I struggled to hold back the small cough that was building in my throat.

The man sighed and let my hair go. "Useless." He rubbed his face. "Can you write?"

I shrugged. I could a little bit. I had some education, simple words were easy. But I knew misspelled things often. He thrust a sheet of paper and a black biro at me. "What did they do there?"

_I'm not sure._ I wrote. _They would screm a lot. It was loud. They wuld die._

The man looked over the note, nodding to himself. "Why was it loud?" he asked, shoving the paper back in front of me.

_Surgery. _I wrote.

The man simply blinked. "Surgery for what?"

I shrugged. It was not his concern to know. He had no reason to know. Nosey people always end up trying to come into my business, not even mine, but they still irritate me. And this blonde was exactly the same. He had no idea what he was trying to delve into. Not that it mattered. I doubt he even cared what he was getting into. It was always the same with these people, who gives a fuck what you're worming yourself into.

He would care. Eventually. It was only a matter of time before someone found the broken headquarters, find his fingerprints on the walls and the few strands of hair that had fallen out at some point. I rubbed my eyes, feigning sleepiness and he directed me to the couch, tossing a small thin blanket over me.

He would realise in time what he was doing.

And so would the rest of Master's subordinates. Stay calm Blondie and maybe you'll become the next experiment. If you're lucky, you'll live.


	7. Sleep

**AN: this is going to be shit because I'm sick, again, and feel absolutely dead. However I do read -every- review and you guys have no idea how much I appreciate them, it makes me feel good inside :3**  
**Anyway! On with the story! - Deadly Nightshade1395**

**Disclaimer: We do not own Death note**

**Reviews appreciated **

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**Mello**

I could tell Matt was faking being tired but I let him get away with it, throwing a small blanket over him. Normally I would've been angry but I didn't need him right now,I'd gotten some information and I wanted to think it over.

Tiredly I rubbed my eyes, it had been three days since I'd last slept, insomnia is a bitch. With a small groan I stretched over the back of my chair, my back giving several satisfying cracks. Rod hadn't given me much on the identities I'd had him check up on, just that they were low level soldiers but not from any of our branches. Of course that had automatically sent warning bells off in Rod's thick skull, even he knew that something was going on if there were men around here who weren't operating for us.

After I had joined the mafia I had shut down every small group in the area to allow my branch to take over more territory. We only had the drugs, weapons and prostitute trading because I had set it up for them. Matt made a small noise in his sleep and turned over, snapping me back into reality. I watched him for a moment to make sure he wasn't waking up, only calming when his breathing stayed steady and he settled in his new position.

Sighing I grabbed my leather gloves, pulling them on and grabbing my gun. I wanted to go back to the hideout and see if I had missed anything in my rush to get Matt out. Just to be sure he'd stay asleep while I was out I popped a small tablet into his mouth and watched it dissolve on his tongue. That would put him out for at least eight hours, giving me plenty of time.

The drive to the hideout helped clear my mind and wake me up some. I easily found the hatch and tugged it open after a quick check for wires. Nothing had changed except for the bodies I'd left behind. They had been removed, dried pools of blood the only proof they had ever been there.

I paused outside of the door that led into the room where I'd found Matt, it had been fixed and replaced. I stood to the side, pulling the door open and holding my breath, almost expecting to have guns shoved in my face as soon as it opened. But there was nothing. This place was as silent as the grave.

Slowly I slipped inside and looked around, taking note of how things were positioned. I took a small kit out and dusted for fingerprints, planning to run them through the police database which I of course would have to hack through. You never knew what information a fingerprint could give you, sometimes it could shorten your mission by days.

After I'd collected any prints I could find and safely put them away I explored further into the building, finding a long hallway, a metal door in the wall every few feet. I stood on the tips of my boots trying to see through the plexiglass panel; I scowled, these boots gave me a few inches but I was still short. Nothing could be seen through the panel so I tried to the handle, locked of course. They all were...except for the last door. It was wider than the others and there wasn't a panel that I could try to see through.

Pushing the door open I stepped inside, searching for a light switch. When the lights turned on my stomach churned unpleasantly. Blood covered the floors and a body was laying on an operating table in the middle, face down. I stepped closer, examining the large incision down the body's spine. It was just like the others yet it seemed different somehow. I pulled on the cut skin to get a better look, my brows furrowing when I saw a small metal device attached on the back of his neck. Curiously I pulled it off, almost gagging when I ended up pulling out a metal strip the entire length of his spine. I wrapped it in a cloth laying in the corner and wiped my gloves off, hurrying out and home. Just what the fuck had Matt gotten himself into?


	8. Pen knife

**A.N.**

**Been a while due to Christmas and New Years. Hope you all had a good one**

**Disclaimer: We do not own Death Note**

**Reviews appriciated**

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**Matt**

My head swirled as I sat up on the lumpy couch. I rubbed my palm against my forehead in hopes of soothing the nauseating sensation, which it did, if only slightly. My mouth was dry and had an odd taste in it which made my nose wrinkle in disgust, the thread through my mouth becoming taught and stretching the already tender holes in my lips.

I made a quiet noise of pain and Blondie whipped his head around to glare at me from his computer. His gloves had been tossed into the kitchen sink and he was running some information on the screen. His glare lessened when I made no response and simply crossed my legs on the couch to get more comfortable. Well as comfortable as you can when it feels like you're sitting on concrete.

My stomach gurgled loudly and wound itself in tight knots. I couldn't remember when I had last eaten, it must've been a few days ago. Master had left me with a mug of tomato soup and a straw which I had gratefully accepted. His Blondeness on the other hand just shot me another withering glare, clenched his fists and stormed into the kitchen. Dishes clattered on the side and he came back a few moments later with a sandwich.

I stared at the bread, then at him, then at the bread again. He couldn't honestly expect me to eat it, I could barely open my mouth to talk. His jaw clenched and his fists balled up tightly. "Just eat it." He said before going back to his computer, rubbing his forehead. I broke off a tiny piece and slipped it between the threads, chewing slowly. It tasted great, considering I was sure it would just be a bread sandwich when he gave it to me. I ate it with a great amount of difficulty and put the plate on the table watching Blonde as he typed intently, clicking on various things and scribbling them down on a sheet of paper in front of him

I was used to being bored out of my mind, but this was a different kind of boredom. At least when I was in the old place I knew various things I was allowed to do to relieve the soul crushing boredom that came with confinement. But Blonde had such a terrible temper, worse than Master's, and it sort of frightened me.

I didn't know if he would hit me. Master did, who's to say this one wouldn't hit me around too. A few hours later he shut off the computer and rubbed his eyes with a groan. He spun around in the chair and tensed up a bit when he saw me. I guess he forgot I was here to begin with. He got up, leather creaking and back cracking as he stretched out.

"You could have gone back to sleep. Not stared at me."

I shrugged. Like I could even fall asleep on the lumpy thing. The hardwood flooring of Master's study were far more comfortable.

He sighed, flicking open a pen knife and put it between my lips. I shuddered at the cool metal as he carefully sawed through the first thread and on the left and right. My mouth parted open some more as he pulled the thread from my mouth.

Blonde made a face and stumbled backwards. "Eugh, you need to brush your teeth." He mumbled, covering his nose and mouth with his hand.

I just made a face at him. The new movement in my mouth made me uncomfortable, it wasn't something I was used to and my lips kept stopping of their own accord, convinced the thread was still holding them shut.

"Now." He said. "Why don't we have a proper little chat. You can tell me everything you know."

I grunted, my throat dry and my hand clenched up into fists on my knees. I couldn't rat out Master. Not to this creep.

"Talk." He instructed.

I shook my head, my fingers tightening in the thin fleece pants.

"That's okay. You will talk. One way or another."


	9. Prod

**AN: IM SICK. AGAIN. YAY. HAVE A CHAPTER.**  
**Ps: My lovely co-author, Ambyrawrawr, is my squish. If you don't know what that is look it up on Urban Dictionary.**

**Reviews are appreciated!**

**Disclaimer: We do not own Death Note**

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**Mello**

It aggravated me to no end that Matt refused to talk, but really it was no worry. I'd gotten bigger men to crack. Matt was reluctant and struggled but I managed to get him to the base and down several halls to the 'play room'. It took me a while of looking through my toys before I could pick one that I thought would work best. Sure it wasn't my favorite but I rarely used it, it was time to see how it would work. Without hesitation I grabbed Matt by the hair and slammed my fingers against his temple, catching him as he went limp. Sighing I started dragging him to the special plexi-glass box nearby and strapped him down to the table. Damn thing was too hard to use with a victim struggling in your arms. Slipping an oxygen mask on I checked Matt's straps one last time before starting the small machine connected to the box. The effect was immediate, Matt's small form writhed on the table, his eyes shooting open as his lungs struggled to take in air. I watched in amusement as he gasped and choked, breathing easily thanks to my mask. Finally I turned the machine off, Matt sucked in deep breaths of air, tugging at his restraints furiously. Leaning over him I ran my fingers down his cheek. "Talk."

"N-No."

He was still resistant, not exactly a surprise. They'd only just begun. I turned the machine on again, getting pleasant tingles in the pit of my stomach from the noises he was making as he struggled to breathe. I gave him a few seconds between each round of the machine to agree to talk but he was holding out fairly well. Even if there were tears streaming down his cheeks he smirked at me. This was boring me, another toy was needed. The smirk was wiped off his face when I pulled out a long metal pole and held it over a fire.

"You could avoid this pain you know. All you have to do is talk.'"

Matt's only response was a terrified whimper; I pulled the brand off of the fire, holding it up to let him see the shape. An 'M' for Mello; there weren't many people walking around with his brand, most were dead. Slowly I undid one leg restraint, pushing his knee up to his chest, taking a moment to appreciate the view before pressing the brand into his skin. Matt's screams filled the air, they were wonderfully pained. The brand mark was bright red against his pale skin and I leaned down to run my tongue along it, loving how he flinched away. Yeah baby, show me some fear. He sobbed, weakly pulling at his ties.

"Just talk Matt. It could all be over."

"...fuck you."

My face bloomed red with anger and I slammed the end of the pole into stomach, watching him gasp for air and cringing. "Talk!"

"That...that make you mad? Me telling you no?"

That was it, I was done with this. Wasting no time I grabbed the closest thing to me-a cattle prod-and turned it on, zapping him with it. There wasn't even a chance for him to talk anymore, I kept pressing the prod to his flesh. After a while it seemed as if he'd had enough.

"No more!" He screamed. "Please!"

My hands clenched into fists, struggling to control myself. If was easy to lose control.

"I...I don't know much." He sobbed, his voice cracking on every word. "There was a doctor, he handled surgeries to implant things in other prisoners."

I frowned. "What 'things'?"

"I don't know."

My hand waved the prod threateningly.

"I swear I don't! We're not allowed to know. All I can say is that whatever they were doing they were having trouble with it. People died almost every time."

Slowly I set the cattle prod down, thinking this new information over. Matt watched me, thin body shaking in anticipation of what I might do next. Luckily for him I was done. Well for now at least.

Once I got Matt back to my apartment he rushed to lay down on the couch, refusing to make eye contact with me. There was no doubt that he was understanding who exactly he was dealing with.

"What does your 'master' look like?"

Matt pressed his lips into a thin line and looked away. Oh he didn't want to rat him out? That was fine with me, I could change him. I went back to searching through my files, trying to connect the new information with the information I already had. It explained the large slits down the victims spine but otherwise it made no sense. What exactly did they plan to do with whatever they were implanting? Even more importantly, what's in the device? Frustration made me grind my teeth, it seemed as if I was just getting more questions than I was answers.


	10. Burn

**A.N.**

**Thank you for all the reviews! It's been a while since this has been updated, but since I'm on half term I'm attempting to update every single story this week (Don't hold me to this though, I will try.)**

**So, to the story, onwards!**

**Disclaimer: We do not own Death Note**

**Reviews make me super happy :) **

**-Ambyr**

* * *

**Matt**

My fingers traced the blistered flesh of my thigh in disgust. The skin had bubbled and was secreting pus down my leg as Mello didn't allow me to go to the bathroom to clean it. It was agonising and hot to the touch, as if the metal was still firmly pressed into my skin. I could hear the sizzle of my flesh as it melted under the scorching heat and boiled into the shape of the brand. My finger brushed the skin where a crack had formed. It reminded me of the crack in Master's wooden bookcase. A heavy thing made entirely of oak which had splintered when he shoved it on top of one of his new recruits. The man shattered his ribs under the weight and his screams of agony didn't make Master's eyelids so much as flicker. Instead he hit him on the head with the metal ball on the top of his cane and told him to silence his damn tongue.

He did it to at least one person when a new batch of people came in, to instill fear and make sure no one tried to back stab him. Even though I had seen him do this at least ten times I still flinched when the bookcase fell down and flattened the person underneath it. I was pretty sure Blonde could do the same thing as Master. He didn't even flinched when I screamed.

My lungs had been aching since then, still grateful for the abundant oxygen which made them throb in nauseating pleasure. In fact my whole body ached, from the holes in my lips to the small grazes on my feet where I stepped on pointy rocks when Blonde had dragged me to the base. My lower lip trembled slightly as I clenched my fists, leaving marks on the filthy whorls of my palms. I could feel the tears well up in my eyes as I struggled to keep my breathing even. I wouldn't cry. Not because of him, I could deal with this, I'd had worse before, this was nothing and yet tears leaked silently down my face.

I scrubbed at my eyes in secret as Blonde monitored his computer. I longed to touch it, the sleek plastic that encapsulated the wires and computer chips reminded me of a few years ago. I had been exceptionally good and Master had given me an old game system with one game, Lunar Silver Star Story. I had been completely engrossed in it before someone put a bullet through the system in a midst of anger. I missed that game terribly and I often caught myself humming the songs that went with it. It was a comfort that wrapped me in a protective blanket, what I pictured the loving embrace of a mothers warm arms around her child as they rested their head upon her chest, the sweet melody of their mother's heartbeat lulling them into a peaceful sleep.

I wondered for a brief moment if Blonde had ever clung to his mother in the middle of the night begging her to comfort him as lightening cracked outside the usually warm and cosy house. I wondered if she ever wound her arms around him, ran her fingers through his hair and murmured comforting words. "There there, you're safe now. Mama's here." I wondered how she would feel if she could see who her son was now, if he disappointed her with his cruel ways and stoic disposition.

Not like he would even care.

He swiveled around in his car, eyes boring into me as I quickly averted my gaze.

"So. Matt." He said, his voice venomously sweet, poison practically dripping down his chin. My fingers tightened on my thigh, my palm shielding the brand from his sight. "I think you understand what happens when you don't cooperate."

I nodded slowly.

"Now I need a description of your Master."

I pressed my lips together firmly, shaking my head. I couldn't rat Master out. He had been so kind to me.

"Do you really think he enjoys your presences you filthy whore? He left you behind. He only kept you for your hair colour, you know that don't you? He wants nothing to do with you, that's why he sewed your lips shut. You have nothing worth saying." He grabbed my hair and twist it tight, the strands screaming to be released and ease the pressure on my scalp, but I did nothing. I couldn't. His cold blue eyes met mine and a small smile curved his thin lips upwards, showing a row of gleaming pearly teeth. "If you behave I can treat you with all the kindness of your Master before you. If not, well-" He gestured to my burn before leaning close and hissing in my ear. "-I'm only just warming up."


	11. Thread

**Mello**

I loved the fear that flashed through his eyes when I threatened him. I kept my lips close to his ear so I could appreciate that fear when the door exploded. Literally. Shards of wood and metal flew inwards at us and I ducked, instinctively pulling Matt down with me. I had been quick but not quick enough to avoid injury, I could feel several shards that had embedded themselves in my lower back. Gritting my teeth I dragged Matt with me into my bedroom, quickly scrambling to grab my gun. My hand had just touched the cool metal when I felt the barrel of another gun digging into the back of my head.

"Put your hands up."

Normally I would've scoffed but these people had no qualms about wasting people. Slowly I put my hands up and on top of my head, standing up when directed. Matt was already on his feet, securely tucked under the arm of a man dressed in black who also had his gun trained on me.

"Turn around."

Doing as I was told I came face to face with a man twice my size when it came to muscles. Well, face to stomach. He had a good six inches on me and I had to crane my head up to look at him. The butt of his gun came smashing down across my face before I could say anything to him. I hit the floor hard, my vision going black.

~~~~

I didn't like what I found when I woke. For one I was naked, secondly I was chained in a cement room. Matt was sitting in the other corner of the small room, but there was no chain around his ankle. My face throbbed and I cradled my head in one hand, looking around to take in my surroundings. It was a small room, one door, no windows. It was very reminiscent to the room Rod had at our base, we used it for prisoners. It was good to keep someone closed in a small room like this one, it made them feel trapped and helpless. Like there was no chance of escape. I could honestly say I was starting to feel the effects of it, I had no idea how long I'd been in here or how long I'd be in here. The shackle around my ankle chafed uncomfortably against my skin and I finally turned to Matt.

"Where the fuck am I?" I growled to my room mate.

He moved a little further away from me. "Master's base."

The door opened and the huge man came in, he pulled Matt close to him and ran his fingers through his red hair. He leaned into the touch and I scowled. How could he be attached to this man? One large hand grabbed me around the wrist and yanked me up, pulling me under his other arm. I wriggled, trying to get away from the man's armpit. He smelled like sweat, drugs and sex.

"You're pretty Blondie. Looks like I have two pets now."

Like hell he did. I bit down hard on his arm, digging my teeth in firmly even when he smacked at me. He threw me up against the wall, I was forced to release him as the air was knocked out of my lungs and I gasped. His sausage fingers wound themselves through my hair and tugged hard. The follicles screamed in protest and I ground my teeth together to keep myself from making a noise of pain.

"Maybe you should take a lesson from Red, he knows how to behave."

I simply spat in his face, being rewarded with a hard slap. Matt was looking at me petrified, amazed at my defiance. He clearly had never tried to resist this man and probably thought it couldn't be done. Well he was in for a surprise, I had no intentions of giving in and becoming a pet for this guy. I would never be someones pet.

"Take him to the room."

As soon as the words left the man's mouth my shackle was unlocked and I was dragged down several hallways to the door where I had found the mutilated body days earlier. I struggled against the arms holding me but despite my best efforts I was strapped down to the table, a bit comforted that I was laying on my back and not my face. I knew that being strapped face down meant that I'd end up like the others, with a slice down my spine and dead in the middle of nowhere. A small man in a surgeon's mask hovered over me, bushy white hairs sticking out of his ears. He pulled down the mask, giving me a sick grin that made my stomach churn.

"Hold still kid and maybe this won't hurt so bad."

With that he took a needle to my lips.


End file.
